DIGITAL COPY ON MAGZTER
S
he had never been scared before by any of
her guests, or their behaviour, not really.
But when Geetha arrived, she was. Her
first instinct was to turn her away, but how could
she do that? Her verifications checked out, her
money was paid, and what was a 72-year-old
woman going to do, anyway? Her first glimpse of
her was when she staggered up the stairs towards
the front door. A small, frail woman in a grubby
coat that was too big for her. She had matted
hair and was clearly drunk. Her heart sank and
she instinctively knew she was in for a world of
trouble.
She stormed past the old woman on to the
windswept terrace of the Victorian house to light
a cigarette. When Geetha came in, the landlady
asked her if she had plans for the days she was
staying with her. Geetha gave
her a malevolent stare and
hissed, ‘Plans? Plans? I just go
where life takes me.’
That night Geetha went out
and the landlady worried
if she would return in one
piece. She was scared of her
erratic behaviour and her
drinking.
The following morning she
was making tea in her kitchen
when she turned at a noise,
expecting to see Geetha. But
no – a fully dressed man,
about 45, was standing in
the kitchen. He had a weather-beaten face and
was wearing heavy boots and a coat. He pushed
past me and slammed through the front door.
She realised he had come from Geetha’s room,
and saw the door was ajar. Geetha was naked
with the remnants of the red cooking wine that
the landlady kept in the kitchen splashed over
her, the bed and floor. For one terrible moment,
she thought it was blood. Then they had an
awful moment when the landlady asked Geetha
to leave. She went out the door. After about 15
minutes the landlady looked out of the window
to check if Geetha was gone yet. To her great
shock she found the man and Geetha stripping in
broad daylight in the middle of her porch singing
a song called ‘Kaliyug ki Sita’, which she thought
was from the Hindi film ‘Lajja’.
Kaliyug Ki Sita
Shame,
Archival Ink, Gouache, Water Colour on Archival Paper, 26” x 26", 2015
IAF - Delhi Connecting Art/ FEB 2016 - MAR 2016 / ARTS ILLUSTRATED /^91